


The Beginning Was Death

by Kyubey_Kotone



Series: Origins and Ends [2]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Bendy (Bendy and the Ink Machine) Worship, Chapter 2: The Old Song, Character Study, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, POV First Person, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, character introspective, references to when Sammy started working at the studio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 03:23:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17256683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyubey_Kotone/pseuds/Kyubey_Kotone
Summary: A small introspective I wrote, getting into the mind of Sammy Lawrence, my favourite character.





	The Beginning Was Death

He was a beacon.

He was a light.

Wasted in solitude, hardly having any reason to live besides the musical reign I had power over, controlling every medley exactly how I intended; planned and making every note in accordance to the general proceedure and feeling I had. He saved me. I realised the wrongs of my past, this prison of an animation studio. I realised the atrophy of this place; corruption being a more suitable word to describe it.

It wasn't much, what this place had intended to be. I honestly don't know why I even started working here in the first place, but when I saw him, my lord, for the first time, there was a light. At first, it was dim. But through passing nights, I grew to understand, an approbation as one would say.

He was hollow.

He was melancholic.

It was incumbent I became one with him, to know the full extent of my lord's pain. I wanted to know him more than what I'd seen in that program. I needed empirical, firsthand experience. No, not only that. I needed to be noticed, for my endeavors, my attributes.

It was attainment when success had peaked my peripheral. I saw it. I saw the world through his eyes. I saw the horror, the guise of his malicious smile. I could feel the rage, indignation. It was all so clear, his suffering. The exasperating breaths of ink, hardly breathing; suffocation. There was no one here. No one could understand. But I was there, I was the only one who tried and put in all my vigorous attempts to become one with him. I'd never attain the same level, god tier. I'd never even begin to attempt, but I feel him.

I pray he saves me. I pray he hears my calls, and saves me from this corrupted body. He's not forgiving but I've stood with him since the beginning. I've been loyal, living as a slave, a servatile existence to do nothing more than to please my lord. He will notice me and he will set me free. He will see my good deeds done in his name.

He was devoid.

He was a savior.

When it happened, I was lost. Everything was bleak, lacking any motivation to actually manifest the will power to do anything. But he was there. I knew what needed to be done. He took me in his loving embrace, and I understood once more. It had all been unsheathed, like a curtain raising.

It was loyalty. It was sacrefice. The sheep do not understand, they cannot see until he has unblinded them. They wait in the darkness, expecting to be heard without the proper devotional sacrefice. He will not give his blessings without the correct tools. He is not giving. Even as a god, he still has needs. He is not human, nor is he a monster. But he is a god.

He was solitary.

He was in need.

I do not believe he knew that everyone, sharing that blood of ink could feel him; see through his eyes, the terror of day in the midst of an abandoned, decaying home of internal suffering. The shared pain of echoing voices, recalling his melancholy  
\--I gave him everything he wanted. It was all in vain, prejudice that he could feel; feel me suffering with him. I was betrayed, deceived. I gave him everything, and more. My own at his very hands. I couldn't feel though, any vexation or depression. He was my lord.

He was a demon.

He was my death.

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen Chapter 5, I know he didn't really die in Chapter 2 but in this fic, he did :'')


End file.
